Dear Prudence
by Miss Snooze
Summary: Ramble On RoryDave oneshot: The story of them, he smiled, was the happiest of his life. Since her he had finally felt wanted, and needed again. And loved, most of all he felt loved... Sequel to Lay Lady, Lay...


**AU: **Okay, I think this'll be the last one for a while... I really like this pairing, but I guess there aren't a lot others who agree with we on that one... Please, please leave me a review, even if it's flames... I'd really like to know if I'm just writing these for myself... Enjoy...

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**Dear Prudence**

He was sitting on the floor in their New York apartment, in front of the fire, humming old Beatles songs, and looking through shoeboxes full of pictures. Those shoeboxes represented their lives the last 2½ years, everything that had happened to them, since they met again at Zach and Lane's wedding. There were pictures of them at the wedding, from the days after with her family, a picture of him in front of his parents' grave, pictures that told the story of them. And now, he was retelling the story in a photo album, as a gift for her.

The story of them, he smiled, was the happiest of his life. Since her he had finally felt wanted, and needed again. And loved, most of all he felt loved.

He opened the photo album, a big one, made of black recycled paper, including the binding, and glued in the first picture. It was one of Lane and Zach's official wedding pictures, and showed the bride and groom standing in the middle, smiling happily, and Rory and Dave on each side of them, both with somewhat gloomy looks on their faces. He smiled at the picture. They had been so confused, both of them, and they wouldn't have gotten anywhere, least of all together, if it hadn't been for their friends. He smiled as he found the piece of Lane's veil that he had saved, and glued it in also. She'd get a kick out of stuff like that.

Flipping a page he glued in a picture of them kissing, a candid shot from the day after the wedding, taken by her mother, and one with her siblings, from the same day. They had taken the kids to see _'Pippi Longstocking'_ in the black, white and red movie theatre, and he glued in the ticket next to the picture. The picture was taken outside The Soda Shoppe, all of them with their faces buried in giant ice cream cones.

Next was the picture of him on the cemetery, he didn't even know she'd taken it, but he was glad she had. That was the day that he made peace with their deaths, and it was a god memory to have. Knowing that she would understand, he took the silver pen that was lying next to him and scribbled "_Thank you my Angel_" under it.

Flipping another page, he chuckled as he found the right picture. They were leaning against her old Mini, his arm around her, and both smiling widely. At her feet was a cardboard box from which the white, black and brown face of a Grand Dane puppy was peeking out, just enough for the blue ribbon it had around it's neck to show. The picture was from their drive to New York, and the dog, since then known as Morris, was right now looking at him sleepily from it's basket next to the fireplace. He smiled, remembering that day.

They had stopped at a diner, of the freeway, to get lunch. When they had gone to pay, she had seen the dog, sitting all alone in his box, in a corner of the diner, and immediately she'd fallen in love with it. It turned out that the owner of the diner was also the owner of the dog, one out of eight puppies that he had been giving away. Only no one around there seemed to want this one, because had too many white spots, and wouldn't be fit for hunting. She had looked at him with puppy dog eyes, and of cause they had taken the dog. She had named him Morris after the car, and he remembered laughing at the fact that she named appliances after live things, and live things after appliances. To add to the irony of it all Morris, who had now gotten up, walked over to him, and collapsed next to him, was now too big to fit in the backseat of the car that he was named after. Dave found the blue ribbon, and glued it in so it made a frame around the picture, and tied it in a bow under it.

Distracted, he scratched Morris behind the ear, while studying the next picture. It was of Rory, sleeping in a hotel bed, surrounded by white sheats. It was from the motel next to the diner, and it hadn't been necessary for them to stay there, but she had whispered in his ear that she loved him and made it impossible for him to wait till they reached New York. They had made love twice, before falling asleep, and he hadn't woken up till the last drops of evening sun fell in through their window, and landed on her face creating a dreamy atmosphere in the picture. She looked like an angel, or like the pixie that he had been fooled to think she really was more than once. He had pet names for her, all derived from these things. Angel, Pix, Puck, Titania, one for all her moods. Under the picture he glued in one of Morris, from the same motel, also sleeping stretched out on his back in his box.

The next picture was of him, lying on his back on her bed, sheet music scattered around him, and Morris the puppy lying playfully on his chest, head on his paws and his hind legs stretched, his tail wagging in the air. Dave had been working, but Morris wanted to play, and with his far too big and clumsy puppy paws he had jumped all over the sheet music for Dave's new song, and ruined most of it. Dave had wanted to be angry, but he hadn't been able too, because her laughter had rung through the apartment like thousands of little silver bells, and he had just been too blissful to be angry. First he glued a torn piece of sheet music into the album, and then the picture on top, so that the paper framed it.

He found two pictures of them, taken in the airport, the day that he had to go to California, to get his things sorted. They had decided that he should move in with her for good, and he needed to go back to get his things, and sell his apartment. In one of the pictures she was crying, and he was hugging her into his body. The other was a candid shot of them kissing. He smiled, they had developed the perfect way of asking strangers to take pictures of them, and they usually ended up great. Outside the airport you could see snow covering the ground. Both pictures got glued into the album, accompanied by a postcard she had written him. All it said was '_I miss you, come home'_.

There were the pictures from their first Christmas together. Luke, Lorelai and the kids, Rory and himself all sitting around the table eating, and sitting around the Christmas tree in their pajamas in a sea of discarded wrapping paper.

Morris moved again, deciding to find his water bowl, and Dave followed him into the kitchen. He walked over to the fridge, and took out a bottle of Perrier, he opened the bottle and took a swipe. They had bought this apartment 4 months after he came back from Cali, both of them falling in love with it immediately. He remembered when they had redecorated the kitchen, and smiled as he went back to the living room, there had to be pictures of that. He found them, and glued in a picture of him and Zach, both leaning against their new, very huge, a very heavy fridge. They both had an open Budweiser in their hand and were laughing at something outside of the picture. Finding another picture, he remembered what they had been laughing at. Rory and Lane was painting the walls, both wearing old ragged jeans, and band shirts. Rory had her hair in a loose bun, a scarf wrapped around her head, and a mischievous look in her eyes. Lane was smiling at the camera, with her side turned to Rory so she couldn't see the paintbrush that Rory was about to stroke over her cheek. He grinned. They had fun that day.

Then there was a picture of Rory, standing outside her bookstore with almost grown Morris. He was sitting next to her, and his head almost reached up to her hip. She was wearing a knee long, knitted, royal blue dress, and long, cognac colored boots, and holding a bouquet of daffodils that he had just bought her.

Next to be glued in, was a picture of Rory, Lane and Lorelai, all of them sitting on a bench in Central Park, Lane obviously pregnant. Behind them, coming from an ice cream cart, was Luke trying to carry three ice cream cones.

And then the picture from the hospital, all of them, Zach, Brian, Rory and himself, gathered around Lane who was in the hospital bed, holding a little blue bundle in her arms. Both her and Zach were looking down at it, with a look in their faces that couldn't be described as anything but pure devotion. He remembered how utterly scared Zach had been when he fund out that he was going to be a dad, and how extremely proud he had been when little Harrison was born.

There was a picture of him and Morris sleeping on a blanket in the park. Pictures from his birthday, she had arranged a surprise party, and for the first time in years he had actually enjoyed the day. Pictures from concerts, his and others, a picture of them walking down the street, both of them wearing sunglasses, black, wool coats, and gray scarves and gloves. His arm was around her shoulders and she was looking at him. There were brown leaves lying in the street.

More pictures of Christmas, this time with Zach, Lane and Harrison, the baby looking surprised in most of the pictures.

Pictures of New Years Eve. They'd had a Blender-party. Lane and Zach had left the baby with Mrs. Kim, and Brian had brought his new girlfriend, this time not an astrologer or a palm-reader, thank God, but a fairly normal girl named Claire, who worked at the mayor's office. The pictures was one of Rory and Lane, dancing around their living room, as far as he remembered to the sound of _'Forever Lost'_ by The Magic Numbers, and both clutching a strawberry margarita. Rory was wearing a bottle green, twenties inspired, silk dress and a long pearl necklace. He loved that dress. There was the one of Brian and Claire smooching in the couch, both looking genuinely happy. There was Zach, Brian and himself standing in the kitchen talking, while Dave was running the blender. The girls gathered on the balcony, hanging out over the railing yelling at people on the street. The had made quite a scene, especially when some of the people recognized them, Rory had ended up inviting some of them up, and in no time the party had grown, from being just them to being twenty-five people. Some of them had actually become their friends.

There were pictures from their ski trip, her on a sled with him pulling her along. Her cheeks were pink, and she was laughing. He hadn't been able to teach her to ski, but it had still been the best trip he'd ever been on. There was Rory walking Morris in the snow in central park. The dog was pulling on the leash, but Rory didn't notice, she was standing still, her face turned up to the sky and her eyes closed. There was snow falling around her and she was smiling.

A picture of Rory, sleeping on the couch, again wearing the blue knitted dress. Through the window behind her you could faintly see flowers on a cherry tree, and the sun was shining through the white voile curtains. She had fallen asleep while reading, and had a book lying over her stomach. On the coffee table a half full mug of coffee stood abandoned.

Dave smiled. Back then they hadn't realized why she was suddenly so tired all the time, and for a couple of weeks he had been really worried about her. He had had flashes from when his mother was sick, and all the bad memories had flooded over him again and again. He had been terrified of loosing her, but he hadn't been able to voice his concerns to her. As an alternative he had gone to Lorelai, who instead of worrying with him as he had expected her to, had smiled mysteriously and told him to relax and wait a while. Three days later, when he came home, he had walked in on a frantic looking Rory, who was flipping through her calendar. For half an hour, all she had been able to say had been '_Oh my, oh my God'_. He had been close to loosing it, when she finally collected herself, and asked him to please go to the drugstore a get a pregnancy test. While they waited for the results, they talked. He was surprised to find that after the initial shock, he was actually pretty calm, and not unhappy about the development at all. Rory however was freaked beyond belief. Not about having a baby per se, but about having a baby without having it planned out. When he lifted up the test and it was pink, he was ecstatic. She however had started to cry. He had asked if she didn't want it, his stomach clutched up in a tight fist. He had been so scared, but she had looked up at him, smiling through her tears. '_We're pregnant'_ she had said, as if it finally had started to sink in.

There was a ton of pictures of pregnant Rory. But he only glued in his favorites, the one of them having a picnic in the park, Rory painting the future nursery, and his all-time favorite picture of her. It had been taken last fall, and she was close to bursting then, in her own words. To him she had never looked more beautiful. She was standing in front of the window, looking out of it with a thoughtful expression. The sun was falling through the red and brown leaves outside, drawing lines over her face. She was wearing a pale yellow button-down shirt with blue forget-me-nots on it, and puffy short sleeves. She had just finished a book by then, and that always made her plaintive.

The next pictures was from the hospital, the first was on a little baby lying in a crib wearing a pink sleeping suit, second was of him holding her, and the last was almost a replica of the other hospital shot, only the bundle was pink, in Rory's arms, and her and Dave was the ones looking down on it in awe. And Claire was in it, wearing a pretty engagement ring. Brian had asked them if they weren't ever going to _'make it official'_ as he put it, and Rory had threatened to castrate him if he ever asked her, or impregnated her again. She had still been drugged up after the birth. He remembered how she had asked him what the name was in that Beatles cover he had recorded, she always listened to that song, and that's what she wanted to name their little girl. He couldn't think of anything more suitable. He had recorded the song on a whim, because it reminded him of her. Under the pictures he glued in the baby-nametag from the hospital. It had _Prudence Lorelai Rygalski_ written on it

The rest of the pictures were mostly of Prudence, sleeping in her crib, himself playing with her on the sheepskin in the living room, and Rory sitting in the rocker in the nursery with Prudence sleeping in her arms.

The last picture he put in was from this morning, Prue's first Christmas. The whole Gilmore-Danes-Rygalski family was gathered around the Christmas tree in his and Rory's library. Rory and himself were sitting in the middle of the shot, holding Prue between them.

He closed the album, and tied the pink ribbon that was lying next to him around it. He had just finished, when he heard a faint scream coming from the nursery, and soon followed by Rory's soothing voice. He could hear her walking out of the nursery, cooing at the baby.

"There, there Sweetie, there's nothing to cry about," he heard her say "Mummy's here, nothing bad can happen when Mummy's here. Should we go look for Daddy, huh? Where do you think Daddy is?"

She came into the room, carrying the baby, who had already stopped crying from being in the safe nightmare free zone that was made up of her mother's arms. She was looking up at her mothers face with big, shiny, blue eyes, seemingly fascinated by her voice. Rory looked up, seeing him, and smiled. She walked over and deposited Prue in his arms, before sitting down Indian style next to him. His daughter looked up at him with sleepy eyes, he smiled at her, and she yawned widely, making him chuckle.

"I think she had a bad dream," Rory said "she stopped crying as soon as I picked her up."

The infant moved around in his arms, cooing quietly and kicking her little legs. Rory bend down and kissed her under her foot. The baby giggled. He tore himself free of the reverie of the little miracle that was his daughter.

"I've got another present for you," he said, and made a movement with his head, indicating the album "It wasn't finished earlier."

She loosened the ribbon, and opened the album. Seeing the pictures, she looked surprised.

"I figured it was about time we got them out of the boxes." He said.

He looked at her as she flipped through the pages, her expression changing for every picture. Every now and then delivering a little out burst.

"He was so cute back then," she said seeing the picture of Morris "still is!"

She scratched the dog's ear.

"I completely forgot about that." She said blushing at the new years picture "We were embarrassing, weren't we?"

He chuckled.

"Remember the newspaper stories?" he said, and she blushed deeper.

"It was bloody good publicity!"

She finished flipping through the pages, and looked at him with a smile.

"This it the best Christmas gift ever," she said, leaning in to kiss him "I love you."

He kissed her again, tracing her lips with his tongue, deepening the kiss.

"Let's go back to bed," she said when he broke the kiss.

She got up from the floor, helped him up, and started walking to the bedroom. He halted in front of the door to the nursery.

"I'll just tug her in," he said, smiling down at his daughter.

"Hurry," she had a mischievous look in her eyes "I need tugging in too."

He looked after her as she sashayed into their bedroom.

"Your Mum is nuts," he said looking into his daughters eyes "I hope you inherited some of that."

Hi kissed her softly on the forehead, and laid her down into her crib. Before leaving the room, he turned on the CD-player, which was set to play only one song. He heard soft guitar play, and his own voice streaming quietly from the speakers. He smiled, and walked out of the room.

_Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play?  
Dear Prudence, greet the brand new day  
The sun is up, the sky is blue  
It's beautiful and so are you  
Dear Prudence, won't you come out to play…_

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